This Time and This Place The Doctor Blake Mysteries

EXPLOSION

Remember, remember the fifth of November

Gunpowder, treason and plot

For I see no reason

why gunpowder treason

should ever be forgot...

Guy Fawkes Guy

Twas his intent

To blow up king and parliament

Three small barrels

Were laid below

To prove all England's overthrow...

By God's mercy he was catched

With a darkened lantern and burning match

So holloa boys, holloa boys

Let the bells ring

Holloa boys, holloa boys

God save the King...

OK, OK. You've had your fun. Get these darkies out of here.

The fun's only just started, Mr Van De Heyden.

That's your friend, right?

Talk to her. Make her see reason.

Your definition of reason being?

Remember, remember the fifth of November

Gunpowder, treason and plot

We see no reason

For gunpowder treason

To ever be forgot...

FOLK MUSIC PLAYS

You should have brought a coat.

Flak jacket, more like.

You stay here.

What is going on?

It's all right, Gracie. He's just having a bit of fun.

EXPLOSIONS

Mary. Mary, it's time we left.

Have you seen Emma?

Mary.

Gracie!

She's all right

SCREAM

Stay here.

Come on, stay with me.

Oh, no!

He's got a gun!

Emma!

Get him!

Hey! Hey, Tommy, lights!

Kill the bastard!

You're going to cop it now, boy!

Leave me alone!

Get off me!

Get in there!

And no more lip.

It's about bloody time, Doc.

Bill Hobart.

How lovely to have you back with us.

Doc. She's over here.

Don't keep him yakking, Davis. We'll be here all night.

I take it that's our...

Killer. Yep.

Oh, just a boy.

16. Winston Cummings.

Part of the orphanage.

Dear, oh, dear.

I've told you all I know.

Now I need to get the children home.

Can I help you take the children back to the orphanage?

I can manage.

Come on, Mary. We're leaving.

Mary!

Gracie, come with me.

Damned fool of a girl.

She should never have taken those children out.

Emma Keneally,

22 years old.

Straight-up shooting.

It would appear so, Charlie.

I trust you have the weapon there.

Ah...

A Luger P08.

A highly sought-after souvenir

for returning soldiers, the Luger.

Where would he get his hands on something like this?

The boy's probably a little too young for active service, hey?

Mm.

Ah, I found some spent shells over there.

Here.

This.

This is where he fired the gun.

Look, Charlie,

perfect cover.

Do you have your torch handy?

Yeah.

Ah, yes, now.

I don't think our shooter was standing.

I think he was kneeling.

A right hander,

if shooting from a kneeling position, would typically

put his right knee on the ground and step his left foot forward.

You see?

Now, looking at the impressions in the ground here,

I would say

the opposite applies. I think our shooter favoured his left.

Right.

Well, we found a third shell over here.

Well, there was a third shot?

Yeah.

Right there.

Did anyone actually see him fire the weapon?

No.

Well, forgive me, Charlie, but look.

Imagine this, if you will.

Here I am, under the cover of darkness.

I kneel,

shoot,

fell my target.

Why on Earth do I then move forward into the light

and what, take another shot?

Maybe you try to dispose of your gun in the bonfire.

Well...

Lucien, when you're finished here I wouldn't mind a lift home.

Yes, Mattie, of course, of course.

Oww.

Oh, you're hurt.

No, it's nothing. It's just a burn.

It's not nothing.

We'll sort you out.

One minute there were people singing and

dancing and then suddenly, there was a...

A boom.

And where was Emma when this occurred?

I'd lost sight of her.

She'd gone off to talk with Winston and the next time I saw her, she...

Yes.

Well, I'm just glad you're all right.

I still don't understand why Winston shot Emma.

He... He looked up to her.

If anything, I think he had a crush on her.

Really?

Was she aware of this crush?

She played on it.

Well, well.

Quick or the dead around here.

I was obliged to start without you.

Your new boss, the superintendent,

has been badgering me for my report.

Munro called you?

Three times in the past hour.

Catch me up.

Two gunshot wounds to the upper left thorax.

Entrance wounds through the second and third intercostal space.

No surrounding stippling or soot deposition.

She's lost an earring. Torn lobe.

Quite recently too, by the looks.

And blood under a broken fingernail.

No exit wounds. Both bullets have been accounted for.

Alice, two wounds very close together. Two bullets,

lodged very near the spine.

Someone was a very steady shot.

GUNSHOT

Out of practice, Major Blake.

What on Earth are you doing?

Conducting a little experiment.

That was dinner.

Right.

I thought it past its prime.

Well, it is now.

Ah, Charlie.

Do you know if Winston had any access to guns, arms training,

cadets, perhaps?

Well, he's not answering any questions at the moment,

-but I doubt it.

-Why?

Well,

Doc, he's black.

Plenty of Aboriginal soldiers served, Charlie.

What's your point?

Look, I made the distance he supposedly fired that

gun at to be around 25 yards.

Now, I'll grant you, conducting a test without the actual

murder weapon is flawed science but...

Forgive me, I'm waffling.

Look, I consider myself an accomplished shot, Charlie.

I've had training, experience.

I had a devil of a time hitting

anything at that range, whereas our killer managed to fire off two

shots in quick succession, both shots bang on target.

-Impressive.

-Impressive?

A damn-near bloody professional.

Oi!

Get off my desk.

Your desk?

Blake, what are you doing here?

A copy of the autopsy report on Emma Keneally.

I asked the forensic registrar to deliver it directly to me.

Ah, more than happy to do it in person.

And good to toss ideas around face-to-face. You know,

more collegiate.

I am capable of reading a report.

Yes, yes, of course, as you wish. I would like to see

young Winston, however, if I may.

I don't see why.

Well, he may be carrying injuries, and it's my job to ensure

he remains in good health whilst in police custody.

Charlie, fancy doing the honours?

Sergeant Hobart,

escort Doctor Blake to the cells.

Winston.

Go away.

Doesn't like the look of you, Doc.

Winston, I'm a doctor. My name's Lucien Blake.

I'd like to take a look at you, if that's all right.

You're not police?

No. No, I'm not.

You took quite a knock, I'm told.

I'm all right.

Yes, well,

how about we take a quick look anyway, eh?

Now, a couple of deep breaths for me, in and out.

Good. And one more.

I don't think anything's broken. That's a good sign.

Just bruised, I think.

What time is it?

Well, it's...

It's 9am.

12 more hours.

Then they have to charge me or let me go.

-Fancy yourself as a lawyer, do you?

-Why not, eh?

You'll see the inside of a court room

soon enough, son. You won't be the last black fella to hang for...

You know, one day you're

not going to be able to do whatever you want to us?

One day you're all going to pay.

Yeah, well, till that day comes,

why don't you shut your boong mouth?

Bill.

We just got a call.

There's a witness to the shooting.

I saw him standing up by the trees.

He had something in his hand and then I saw two bright flashes.

How can you be sure it was Winston Cummings?

Ah, Tommy goes to school with him.

Why didn't you tell us last night when I first interviewed you, Tommy?

I thought what I saw was one of them Roman candle firecrackers.

You know, the ones that shoot out coloured balls.

It wasn't until I thought about it later that

I worked out that must have been the moment that he shot her.

You were in the car, listening to the

radio while all this was going on, weren't you?

Yeah, that's right.

Quiz Kids was on.

How'd you see Winston from inside the car, Tommy?

Here's you.

Here's the bonfire.

And that's where Winston was standing.

Your view is completely obscured by the bonfire.

You're wasting our time, Tommy.

I was only trying to help.

Everyone in town knows he done it.

It's all right.

Sister.

What do you want?

Ah, I'm meeting District Nurse O'Brien here.

We were chatting earlier.

I offered to do some free health checks on the children.

Did you indeed?

Good. Very good.

Well, you can hop down now. You ready?

One, two, three. Good girl.

Well, collectively they lack vitality.

They share some other symptoms as well.

Might pay to make a trip to the greengrocer,

pick up some oranges.

We lost our fruit trees to the birds.

We're doing without.

Yes.

Yes, of course.

Ah.

Well, hello there.

I suppose I'll have to have a look at you too, eh?

The baby's already had her health checks done.

Last week.

Sister Frances, please get the children ready for chapel.

OK. Come on, everybody out.

That must be you done, Doctor.

I think Nurse O'Brien is gathering up the last

one or two.

This, um...

This business with Emma Keneally. It's just...

Just terrible, isn't it?

Do you have any idea what might have driven Winston to want to kill her?

Are you a copper or a doctor?

Hello?

Who's there?

Mary.

What are you doing in here?

Isn't this the boys' dormitory?

This is Winston's bed.

Come on, Doctor Blake is waiting to see you.

Mattie?

In here, Doctor.

Stride Toward Freedom.

Martin Luther King.

It's Winston's.

Proud young man, by the looks.

"Consider this a call to arms.

"Warmest regards, EK."

EK... May I?

Of course.

Oh.

Thank you.

It's a love letter.

It seems young Winston had more than just a crush on Emma.

Well, why would you kill someone

if you thought you were in love with them?

If they were spurned, perhaps.

Ooh, who was spurned?

Oh nothing, Charlie. Pure conjecture at this point.

Are you joining us for lunch?

No, I've got a sandwich made up somewhere.

On the sink.

Jean, is everything OK?

Yes, wonderful.

I received a call from Christopher Junior.

Apparently I'm going to be a grandmother.

Congratulations!

Oh, wonderful news. How about that?

Bravo.

Well.

Out with the old, in with the new.

I'll, um, pick up a new letterbox in town, shall I?

Lovely.

KNOCK ON DOOR

-That'll be your one o'clock.

-Right.

Mrs Goldsmith, why don't you have a seat there?

Now, what can I do for you?

Well, I have this cut,

and I fear it's become septic.

Goodness me.

I think you might be right.

That does look nasty, and

there appears to be something lodged in there.

Well, you've been at war, haven't you?

I'm sorry?

That...

That is a piece of shrapnel.

That's going to need a stitch.

I'm going to have to give you a local.

Are you all right with needles?

There we are.

Mrs Goldsmith, tell me,

that explosion...

Do you recall whether it happened before or after Emma was shot?

Um, no, sorry.

Things were all rather chaotic at that point.

Yes.

Yes, I'm sure. I believe your husband knew the deceased.

Yes, Emma was Ian's protegee. He taught her at Melbourne University.

Oh. And she followed him up here?

People tend to gravitate towards Ian.

Goodness, you both must be devastated.

And your husband knows the young boy, doesn't he? Winston.

I'm wondering if your housekeeper would mind calling for a taxi cab.

I walked here but I'm not sure I have the energy.

I tell you what. I have to drive into

town anyway. Why don't I drop you home?

No, I'm happy for a taxi, please.

Honestly, I insist. It's no trouble at all.

Of course Winston's innocent.

It's a ludicrous suggestion otherwise.

Ian and Emma successfully campaigned to get Winston

and Mary into the local public school.

We're on the League for Aboriginal Advancement together.

We went in hard, we won our case.

The school's P&C were furious. The thought of their

precious children sharing the same seat as coloureds.

Yes, I can see how that would earn you some enemies.

Well, it was worth it.

That boy Winston, he's something special. A smart lad.

He'll be the first man of colour to make the bar, you mark my words.

Dr Blake has better things to do than listen to your raves, dear.

Oh, thank you. And tell me, you don't recall speaking with Emma on the night of the bonfire?

No, no, sorry, I was quite preoccupied with my work, I'm afraid.

-Your work?

-I'm a cultural anthropologist.

I was making sound recordings of the evening.

Part of my study into pagan ritual.

-Really?

-Mm.

-Oh, how fascinating.

I find it so. It'll be published one day soon,

and lost in a library soon after, no doubt.

But that's how I fill my days.

Just one more thing, if I may.

The explosion. What colour was the flame?

Blue. Bluish green. Why?

HE SNIFFS

Incandescence, Charlie. Light produced from heat.

Heat causes a substance to become hot and glow,

initially emitting infrared,

and then red, orange,

yellow and white light as it becomes hotter.

Are you with me so far?

Yeah, I don't think this is a good idea, Doc.

Now, luminescence on the other hand -

light produced using energy sources other than heat.

-Chemicals, Charlie.

-What the hell are you doing?

Ah, just in time, gentlemen.

What the bloody...!

Colour, Charlie?

Definitely blue, towards the end.

Caused by the addition of copper chloride.

You won't find that in a regular 9mm round.

Davis, explain the meaning of this.

-Well...

-It's all right, Charlie.

You said the boy reeked of gunpowder, and there's a reason for that.

But not because he fired a weapon.

He'd been playing with firecrackers.

Specifically, I think you'll find he was responsible for the

home-made bomb that caused the explosion in the bonfire last night.

I found this in the ashes of the fire.

The fire you raked out, Davis?

Bring in the suspect.

Hop to it.

Sorry, Bill.

You want to tell me about this?

I've already told you, I didn't kill Emma Keneally.

That's not what I'm asking you.

We're talking about the jam tin that you packed with gunpowder

from the emptied-out firecrackers.

-Don't put words in his mouth, Blake.

-Guy Fawkes night.

Good way to draw attention away from the sound of a gun going off.

No, I was making a statement.

You used it as a distraction, didn't you?

Probably thought you were being clever about it.

-No.

-Makes sense. You're a smart kid.

Wait till everyone's focused on the explosion, then pop. Hmm?

Winston, catch.

Here. What about this?

You see? No attempt to catch it till the very last moment.

-Better be going somewhere with this.

-All right.

Winston, I am terribly sorry.

Just one more test, all right?

Can you tell me, in order from your left to your right,

who's standing where?

Well, you're in the middle, but I can't...

No. No. It's all right. It's over.

And again, I am so sorry for putting you through that.

Have you ever worn spectacles, glasses, for your vision?

No, never had any.

No, but you can read, obviously,

so your short range vision is fine.

Superintendent, two shots fired in quick succession,

25 yards, thereabouts, pinpoint accuracy,

at night, a moving target. I mean...

Look, confirm it with an ophthalmologist if necessary.

You can bet your life his lawyer will, if you put him on trial.

Release him.

CHEERING

Now, hang on a tick. Before you go...

These used to be my father's.

Just until you get yourself your own pair.

Let's see how they look on, eh?

Ah, pretty good, I'd say.

You know, that was fairly dangerous what you did with the jam tin,

packing it full of the gunpowder. People could have been killed.

Do you know who the Wathaurong are?

It's the name of the tribe from this area.

How many do you see around Ballarat today?

"Smoothing the pillow of a dying race."

That's what you lot call it.

You know what we call it?

Genocide.

You should learn some local history, Doctor,

before you start lecturing me about people dying.

-BOY:

-Winston!

-Winston!

CHEERING

UPBEAT MUSIC PLAYS INSIDE CAFE

-How are you?

-Good.

-How can I help you?

-Yes, two double malts, thank you.

Afternoon, Doc. Back for more fireworks?

Ah, Kevin. No, thank you. I think I've had plenty of fireworks for now.

It's funny, you know.

I remember your mum and dad coming in here as a wee kid.

It's funny, I... I don't recall ever coming here with my parents.

No, never said you did.

Every Friday night they'd come in, just like clockwork.

Your mum would order a slice of

poppy seed cake and Dad would heat it up in the salamander for her.

-Every Friday, you say?

-Yep, they'd sit in that table right over there.

And he'd always make sure it was available for them.

Right.

Great tackle on Winston Cummings.

Yeah, well, just doing what needed to be done.

Did you see anything else, Kevin, when the shots were fired?

No, I was too busy loading up the bonfire.

Look, Miss, I know she was a friend of yours,

and I don't like speaking ill of the dead, but that Emma

-Keneally, she could be a right...

-Tough little negotiator.

Yeah. She and Goldsmith caused an almighty mess at our school,

letting those darkies in.

It's not fair on anybody, the black kids more so.

Setting them up to fail like that. It's not right.

Winston Cummings was a gifted student.

Look how that turned out. Well, it's not their fault.

Genetics. They're equipped with a much smaller brain.

Scientific fact. Correct, Doc?

Well, I haven't read that particular paper.

-Anyhow, look, what do we owe you?

-No, no, no charge, Tommy.

You know, it's Olivia Goldsmith I feel sorry for.

-Why's that?

-Well, ah,

Emma and her husband, they worked really closely together,

if you know what I mean.

-Ah, great minds think alike.

-Doc, you can't keep doing this.

Come on, Charlie, we're all family.

Hey, if Munro finds out you're here, he'll have my bloody head.

In your own little world, as always.

Have a look at this. It's Emma's diary.

"IG, such a hypocrite."

IG? Ian Goldsmith?

-Why is he a hypocrite?

-We're yet to find that out, Charlie.

Doc? You should know.

Olivia Goldsmith?

She's been a member of the local gun club since she was a kid.

Her father's the club president. Said she's a hell of a shot.

Is that right? Thank you, Charlie.

SJ, BH, Maroopna, July 17.

-SJ. Sister Josephine?

-That's what I was thinking.

And who's BH?

-Bill Hobart.

-You let him in here?

-Now look, Bill...

-Hang on, let me explain.

Get out!

Bill, tell me, what is your connection

to Sister Josephine at the orphanage?

-Do I have to cuff you, Doc?

-Come on, what happens at Maroop...

Mattie, I was wondering, do you think you could chase something up for me?

Yeah, of course.

The minutes from the last couple of meetings of the League for Aboriginal Advancement.

-Yeah, I can do that.

-Wonderful.

-Jean?

-Mm?

The Goldsmiths. How old is their baby?

Baby? They don't have any children.

Really? Well, I couldn't help but notice a bassinet and

some nappies and so forth at their place.

She was having trouble falling pregnant.

-I know she saw your father about it.

-I see.

Well, it certainly doesn't get any easier the older we get.

Anyhow, what's for dinner?

Well, it was going to be roast lamb and three veg.

Now it's just the three veg.

Yes, quite.

-How difficult would it be...

-Hm?

..to turn that into a pot of soup?

A very large pot of soup?

-Well, hello, there.

-Dr Blake.

Thought we'd say a quick hello to Winston, see how he's getting by.

-Marvellous news about his release.

-Yes. Yes, it is.

Mrs Goldsmith, how's that arm of yours healing?

Oh, fine, thank you.

Well, cheerio.

Ah, Sister. Now, I took you at your word.

Where are we with the fingerprint analysis?

Ah, still waiting for it to come back, boss.

Take a walk with me, Davis.

Are we... we here to interview a suspect, sir?

-Do you have a suspect for me, Davis?

-No, sir.

Or are you waiting for your landlord, Doctor Blake,

to provide you one, perhaps?

I'm having the sirloin. What about you?

My shout.

Well, Jean, I'd say your soup is a hit.

It's very much appreciated, thank you.

It's my pleasure.

Now, kids, when you've finished your dinner, we've got something very special lined up for you.

CHILDREN GASP

Ah! But... But you have to finish your dinner first, all right?

-May I leave the table, Sister?

-Yes.

Take your dishes to the kitchen sink, thank you.

Not you, Mary. You're heading the washing up team.

Sister, young Winston, he's left-handed.

He's ambidextrous.

-Nice crockery, Sister.

-Brought them back from China.

-Ah, you were in China?

-Ah, a decade back.

-I was part of a Catholic mission in Shandong.

-Ah.

What's your connection?

I have a daughter there.

-How old?

-She's 21.

She's a long way from home.

Something you need to hear, Davis.

Your father.

I knew him back when I was a young copper in Richmond.

You did?

We worked the beat together.

Took me under his wing

while I was still trying to work out which way was up.

He was a good man, your dad.

His own man.

-Have you been here long?

-Eight years.

I see. And how do you like Ballarat?

It's nice.

Stupid! Stupid girl! Stupid Aboriginal!

It's all right. Mary, it's my fault. It's all right.

It... It's not that nice here.

No.

They cry. Every night before they go to sleep.

And what about you?

I stopped crying a long time ago.

Sister, tell me, what does the name Maroopna mean to you?

It's the town where the vast percentage of our orphans come from.

So all their parents are deceased?

Families break down in different ways.

-Very hard to lose your children.

-I don't make the rules.

The state's neglect laws determine whether I receive children or not.

All I do is open my doors.

Quite. Tell me, who transports the little ones?

The police.

-Bill Hobart?

-Sometimes.

BABY GURGLES

And the baby. When did she arrive?

Last Tuesday.

-Lucien, would you mind coming with me, please?

-'Course.

Those are my old glasses. I gave them to Winston weeks ago.

My dear Lee, I know we didn't part on the best of terms, but

I simply can't leave things as they are.

I know it may not be easy, but please take the time to write back.

I miss you more than you could possibly imagine.

All my love, your father, Lucien.

-I'm off to bed, Lucien.

-Jean, would you..?.

Would you mind terribly popping that in the post for me in the morning?

Of course. I'll do it first thing.

Thank you.

Goodnight.

Goodnight, Jean.

Did young Mary say anything else?

Not much. She's scared, Lucien.

-Scared of what?

-Of us.

She's just a girl and she's trapped in this town where nobody

seems to like her.

No family. It's just dreadful.

Yes. Yes, it is.

I just wish there was something more I could do to help.

Well, you certainly helped last night, and I thank you.

Just a delight to see those young ones tucking into some good

healthy food for a change.

Wasn't it?

It seemed like a rather empty gesture to me.

You're quite right.

Let's organise for a delivery once a week to the orphanage.

Plenty of fresh fruit and veggies.

Perhaps you could sort out the details for me.

Ah.

I have been in contact

with the League For Aboriginal Advancement

and they're involved in some very

important work, if the minutes of their last few meetings are

-anything to go by.

-You've read the minutes?

Oh, I did better than that.

I hope you can read my shorthand.

This one records from a reel to reel and this one does exactly

the same thing and it's just, you know, much more compact.

It's so portable. You could take this anywhere, couldn't you?

Ah, it's remarkable how small they can get these days, it really is.

Oh, Olivia, the doctor's here talking the latest technology.

He's looking at getting a reel to reel of his own.

Yes. Do you know, I just had a thought.

You were recording the other night at the bonfire, weren't you?

I wonder whether you might have picked something up on tape,

the shooting, perhaps?

The tape was ruined, I'm afraid. The flare from the explosion.

I see.

Just one more thing, if I may.

Ian, you're a member of the League For Aboriginal Advancement.

Mm-hm. We both are. We've attended every meet.

Really?

That's not what's recorded in the minutes.

You sent your apologies at last

week's meeting. Why did you fail to attend?

Well, I don't see what relevance that has to this.

The baby at the orphanage.

She was supposed to be delivered to you, wasn't she?

You've been waiting for just the right child.

A baby that was...just white enough.

Emma found out. She threatened to expose you to the League.

That child was deemed under neglect, by the state.

I had every right.

Yes, yes, yes. Emma put the brakes on your plans, didn't she?

Is that why you two fought that night at the bonfire?

Is that how you got that scratch on your neck?

OK, that's enough. That's quite enough.

Do you own a gun, Mr Goldsmith?

I only ask because the police already know

that your wife's been a member of the local gun club

-since she was a girl.

-Get out.

That fight, Mrs Goldsmith. You were angry.

Furious. Furious enough perhaps to shoot Emma.

Get out of my house!

Ian, be a man for once in your life and get him out of here

Ian, it's all right. I'm leaving.

Lovely day.

Cheerio.

I hope that's a new letterbox.

DISTANT VOICES: How about that? A bunger.

-Oh, here we are.

-They're noisy!

Yes, they are. Careful! Oh!

And what about... a halfpenny bunger.

CRACK Oh, there we are!

-Argh!

-There we go!

JOLLY MUSIC AND POPPING

That's a penny bunger.

-WHISTLING

-That's the man with the penny whistle.

Excellent. Now, keep listening.

BANG

What's that? I don't recognise that sound at all.

Shh. Wait.

MUSIC AND BANGING

-Gunshots.

-No!

It was barely audible.

No, wait a minute. I'll play it again.

Now, listen carefully.

MUSIC AND GENTLE THUDDING

The Roman candle.

Jumping Jack,

penny bunger and...

BANGING

..there.

-All three gunshots accounted for.

-Well, where was the explosion?

It doesn't come for another seven or eight seconds.

We've all been assuming that

the jam tin bomb was used to disguise the sound of the gunshots.

This proves they're separate events entirely.

The penny whistle. At the bonfire, the penny whistler

scared little Gracie. Then Mary left.

She'd seen Emma and Winston together.

Well, where was she when the shots rang out?

I don't know.

She...

She was by my side when the explosion happened but...

By then, Emma was already dead. We need to talk to Mary.

Righto, Mattie.

Charlie, what's going on?

Winston lied to us about having glasses.

The nun confirmed they're his. She's the one gave them to him.

What are you doing with him?

-He's being charged with the shooting of Emma Keneally.

-Oh, come on!

What possible motivation would he have for killing Emma?

Well, Davis found a love letter, too.

Seems the kid was lovestruck and she didn't want a bar of him.

-It's lucky we found him before he went bloody walkabout.

-Let's go.

Sister, we need to have a quick word with young Mary, if we may.

That will be difficult. Mary's gone.

Her bed hasn't been slept in and my bike is missing.

Where would she go?

She has brothers in Maroopna.

Right, thank you, Sister.

Come on.

"When I look at you sometimes you make the sun...shine"? Very sweet.

"You're always so smart,

"the prettiest girl I know..."

Spelled p-r-e-t-t-y-e-s-t.

I didn't write that letter.

And those weren't your glasses, either?

What are we meant to think, Winston?

Hm? You're not saying much.

So you can twist my words, and use them against me?

And you wanting to go to university. The irony.

You know what Wendouree translates as in our language?

When the white settlers first came across the lake,

the local Aboriginal people told 'em,

"Wendouree, wendouree."

The whitefellas must have thought it was the name of the place,

when really they were wanting them to go away, go away.

That's irony.

Wendouree.

Enough! Stop it!

Wendouree!

Enough!

Wendouree.

Now, Mattie, do you think that's her bicycle?

I think so, yes. There she is!

Mary!

Oh, goodness, she's cold.

Suffering from hypothermia. We'll need to get to a hospital, Mattie.

Help me get her up, would you?

That's the way. That's the way.

-Well, that's unusual.

-What?

Look, this mark here. That...

That's a bullet graze.

Lucien!

Mary wasn't running to someone, she was running away from someone.

I can't believe she'd come out here

without a coat on. Such a bitterly cold night.

-Because she'd given her coat to Emma.

-What?

Emma came under-dressed on the night of the bonfire.

Mary must have lent her coat to Emma.

Emma was wearing it when she was shot.

Oh, of course.

GUNSHOTS

GUNSHOT

PHONE RINGS

Ballarat Police.

Charlie, it's me. Listen, he didn't do it.

We've had it wrong all along.

Emma wasn't the intended target, Mary was.

-Doc I...

-I need you to bring me the murder weapon,

and the love letter, the one you took from my desk.

Gee, you don't ask for much, do you?

-Thank you, Charlie.

-We were just about to close.

Oh, damn. I was afraid we'd left our run too late.

What would you like?

You're a good man, Kevin. Just my usual, a double malted.

And one for Sergeant Davis.

Ah, Tommy. Andy. Good boys.

Mr Van De Heyden, do you own a handgun?

-It's in my safe. You'll have to go through to the back.

-Great.

All right.

Just keep at it, boys.

Just mind your step there.

There you go. All above board.

What do you use it for?

Oh, me and the boys are in the local gun club.

Yeah, we're aware of that.

Actually it isn't the .45 we're interested in, Kevin.

-It's the Luger your father brought back from the war.

-Oh.

Yep, that's in here somewhere.

-It's, ah...

-Is this it?

Yes, it's...

That was the gun used to kill Emma Keneally.

Well, someone must have, ah, broken into the shop and stole it.

How did they get access to the safe key?

Oh, I'm sure they...

Can we do this down at the station?

Dad?

Tommy, just go and look after your little brother.

I did it.

I shot her.

Someone had to stop her, otherwise the blacks would be running this town, if Emma Keneally had her way.

-Dad!

-Stay out of it, Tommy.

I s'pose...

you wrote this love letter, too, did you?

To young Mary Jackson?

No, no, of course you didn't.

That's not your handwriting.

You see, Mary was the killer's intended target, not Emma.

It was a case of mistaken identity.

Wasn't it, Tommy?

Mary rejected your advances because she's in love with Winston.

Now, in a moment, Sergeant Davis

will check the handwriting of this letter

against the handwriting in your school books.

I'm sure he'll find a match,

just as I'm sure he'll find a match between

your fingerprints on those milkshake

glasses and the spent shells we found at the murder scene,

and the grip of your grandfather's pistol.

I never meant to shoot Miss Keneally.

I only meant to knock the darkie off.

Why, Tommy? Why?

I paid her all that attention at school.

I was so nice to her.

Come here.

Bit early for the post, isn't it?

Just a tad.

Thank you for sorting out the letterbox, by the way.

Perfectly fine. This one's much nicer, anyway.

Yes, very smart.

You know, Jean,

those children at the orphanage...

..that place.

Seeing them...

I see my daughter.

Alone. Barely able to speak the language.

Her mother dead, her father...gone.

Half-white, half-Chinese. Her life...

Her life must have been unbearable.

Well, you can't blame yourself.

Winston and Mary.

All the little ones at the orphanage.

They've already gone through so much.

Children...

Children just want to be with their parents.

Come inside. I'll make us a cup of tea.

That'd be lovely. I'll be in shortly.